


being stalked is the least of his problems

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, First Dates, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, more like a day off from jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not that they were expecting to get something out of it. Maybe Eren was. Levi wasn’t sure what he signed up for; he’s not even sure if he should be surprised by anything at this point.</p>
<p>Or: Levi and Eren go on their first date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	being stalked is the least of his problems

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read alone, but if you'd like, it's a continuation of [first loves aren't for keeps, but hopefully this one will be](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1989147).

A black car was parked beside a streetlamp whose light kept blinking: on, off, on, off. It was only about time before it went off and camouflaged the car. In the distance, gunshots and screams could be heard. The buildings that comprised the street were old, close to ruin. The road was filled with cracks and the occasional pothole.

Levi tapped his index finger on the wheel.

His watch read 7:05:26 PM.

Eren was now officially five minutes and twenty-six seconds late. Levi took out a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jacket and tapped it with his hand a couple of times. He fished a stick and stuck it in his mouth. He fumbled around the glove compartment for his lighter. Once he got his lighter, he got out of his car and lit his cig.

He looked at his watch again. 7:06:03 PM. He leaned on his car. It was fucking cold tonight.

Levi didn’t like smoking, didn’t like the smell that clung onto him, the ashes that lodged themselves in his clothes _somehow_. But every now and then, he’d find himself getting a packet and smoking one for old time’s sake. It made him remember college. Not that he had any problem with college in itself, it was just the shit he did when he wasn’t attending classes or working his ass off on requirements. There were days when he was a little bit thankful Erwin got him to sort his shit out. Just a little bit, of course, because Erwin could be such a smarmy bastard about it.

7:17:12 PM.

Levi looked at the sky. It was dotted with a shitload of stars.

He was never one for poetry.

“I used to be a chain smoker,” he said. “Two packets a day was the norm.” He looked at the smoke. Up, up, up it went. “I stopped that shit right after college.” More he was overworked to the point where the only things he did outside work was sleep, take a bath, and clean his room; sometimes in that order, sometimes not. Sometimes he lived like a fucking pig as well.

“That stuff’s bad for you,” said Eren as he emerged from the darkness.

Levi glanced at him. Eren would be impeccably dressed if it wasn’t for the specks of blood on his dress shirt. “I’m surprised you’re not smoking. I’ve been told that crazy people smoke a shitload.”

Eren grinned. “I don’t like conforming to social norms.” He leaned on Levi’s car as well. Their shoulders bumped. Levi could feel Eren leaning on him as well. Kids these days, too fucking lazy to carry their own weight.

“Maybe you could conform to our schedule.” Levi could feel Eren’s hair brushing his cheek. Fucking lazy kids.

“I wasn’t going to ditch you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t,” agreed Levi. “I already knew you were going to be late when you told me where we’d meet.”

The neighborhood they were meeting in wasn’t really a good one. Not the sort of neighborhood people would take their (expensive, beautiful, well-polished) cars to. Unless they were Levi. Or Eren; if he had a car, of course, because he didn’t have a car, and Levi thought that was because Eren would sometimes get so fixated on something that he’d forget everything else. Anyway, the point was this was one of those places Eren liked to hang around. Places where never-do-goods were in abundance, where most of the streetlamps were just for decoration, where gang fights were a nightly occurrence.

“Trying to win me over with your car, huh?”

“No.” Levi knew for a fact that Grisha Jaeger liked collecting cars. Maybachs, Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces, the list went on.

Eren snorted before nudging Levi’s rib with his elbow. “But you tried, didn’t you?” His breath caressed Levi’s earlobe.

“Shut the fuck up, Eren.”

He got a laugh in reply.

“We’re driving by your place. Need to get you new clothes.”

Eren hummed in agreement.

Levi frowned. Who was he fucking kidding? There was no way he’d be getting Eren’s attention any time soon. Kid was still high from his hunt.

“I wish you were there, Levi,” said Eren. His voice was soft, serene. Something so unlike Eren who was more of a loud, pushy brat than anything. He sighed.

“They wish they probably weren’t there,” muttered Levi. “Let’s go.” He stood up and went to the nearest building. He crushed his cigarette on the wall and left it on the windowsill beside the wall.

His only beau at that, but they didn’t exactly know that he lied to them last time.

He looked at his watch again. It was 7:25:40 PM. The dinner he reserved was at 8:30. Eren’s flat was a thirty-minute drive from here. The restaurant where they would be eating in was around a ten-minute drive from there. Choosing appropriate I-won’t-stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb-in-a-swanky-restaurant clothes for Eren would probably take fifteen minutes. His lips thinned.

He and Eren got in the car. He looked at Eren and asked, “Have you ever gone up to 180 on the freeway?”

“Are you offering?” There was a grin on Eren’s face.

Levi looked at Eren incredulously. “Does doing stupid shit turn you on?” When he saw Eren’s grin widen, he wondered why he even bothered to ask.

“I can see this relationship working out.”

“I’m not letting you drive my car, Jaeger.” God forbid that Eren have a thing for hitting people with cars after this. Levi turned on the ignition.

That night, Eren experienced his first car chase. Needless to say, he was absolutely thrilled. Levi was beginning to get concerned that he was being a bad influence on his maybe-not-really-or-sort-of-getting-there date-friend.

 

* * *

  

Eren was known in high society as the hard-working, charming-in-his-own-way only son of Dr Grisha Jaeger, respected authority in the field of nanomedicine, and Kalura Jaeger, heiress of the great Çelik fortune. Other people had also probably heard of him, just not as Eren Jaeger.

Sometimes, Eren went by the name the Sina Slasher, a serial killer unrivalled in his apparent brutality in mutilating his victims to the point where the only way they could be recognized was through the IDs they kept in their wallets.

Levi just liked referring to him as little shit though.

Eren was cool with that.

 

* * *

 

The waiters were courteous and attentive, the cutlery gleamed under the lighting of the restaurant, the table napkins were arranged artfully, but Levi knew that things were going to go south the instant he spotted dust on the windowsill and a small out-of-place dot on the menu.

He was further convinced of his thoughts the instant the hors d’oeuvre — bruschetta, carpaccio, crudités — and apéritif — Lillet Blanc which everyone and their grandmothers seemed to like — were served. They were good enough, he supposed, but only if one were to look at them as individual dishes. And if one were to have the sensibilities of a farm animal when it came to tasting food in an expensive restaurant.

When he’d gotten the asparagus soup, he thought that it wasn’t worth it anymore. However, he held his tongue because this was, apparently, a nice restaurant that a shitload of critics liked, and he wasn’t the sort to make a scene if he could avoid it. But if Levi were to be honest, he had more than a few words, ranging from “The food presentation looks like kid vomit” to “Fuck this shit, dog shit tastes better than this,” to describe the food. As funny as it sounded, he was a pretty finicky eater. Then again, Levi was finicky about most things.

“It’s weird,” said Eren while he absentmindedly chewed on a carrot stick.

“What is?” asked Levi after he took a sip of their godawful asparagus soup. They could ease off on the salt and pepper. Shit probably needed more lemon, or asparagus for that matter. God forbid they were serving canned soup in a restaurant like this.

“You’re being awfully nice.” Eren was regarding him with curious, confused eyes.

“What?”

“If you don’t like that, you can give it to me.”

“... What?” Aside from being batshit insane, did Eren have other talents, like, say, mind reading?

Eren shuffled a little in his seat. “You looked like you’d be doing anything else except eating,” he explained, “so I thought you might not like it that much.” Eren grinned. “I just eat anything.”

Levi let out a bark of laughter. The sound surprised even him. “For a rich brat, you have shit manners.”

Eren huffed. “I’ll have you know I’ve been educated by tutors on proper etiquette.” He smiled and began nibbling on a celery stick.

“Tutors,” said Levi, stressing the s at the end. “You probably had a shit-ton of them, what with the crap way you’re holding yourself now.”

“I had three, actually,” said Eren nonchalantly. “Social etiquette, table manners, and dancing.” He pursed his lips. “Might’ve had more than that.”

Sometimes, it amazed Levi how carefree the Jaegers, considering how swimmingly well their finances were, were with their child. No bodyguards, no anything. Kid even lived alone, albeit, his apartment was at the safer side of the city. “Ever get kidnapped before?”

Eren smiled brightly. “Oh yes, of course, several times, in fact. The first was where I met Mikasa, you know.”

Mikasa was kidnapped as a kid? Not that they were close or anything, just that something like that would pop up in family reunions, few and far between as they were. “You sound awfully happy about that.”

“Jealous?”

Levi quirked an eyebrow as if to say “Are you shitting me?” “You were dropped on your head as a baby.”

Eren laughed. “I was eight and wanted to play in a park with other kids. I was playing in the sandbox when Mikasa came and asked if she could join. We sort of got kidnapped together, and the rest is history.”

Levi had a feeling that that “and the rest is history” was one hell of an understatement. If some billionaire’s kid was kidnapped, it would’ve made the news. “How did you get back? Got them paying that ransom?”

The smile on Eren’s face was absolutely predatory. Levi knew where this was going. “We all have to start somewhere, of course,” said Eren matter-of-factly. Levi translated this as: “I found my calling.” Eren probably assailed his kidnappers, stabbed them until they turned into mush, then found that he found it more fun than building sand castles or digging holes in sandboxes.

Eren had probably been a normal kid before that. As Levi watched Eren reach for another celery stick, he thought, “In what fucking universe is that guy normal?” He asked, “So what about the other times you got kidnapped then?” What he actually wanted to know was why the fuck no one was guarding this walking gold mine. Of course, this was putting beside the fact that Eren could put up one helluva fight, but Levi supposed that not a lot of people were privy to that information.

Eren twirled a carrot stick with his fingers like one would a baton. “They were very educational,” he replied after carefully considering what words were best to use. “Fond memories,” he said with the same tone parents used to describe insufferable yet adorable children. “What about you? Ever kidnap any kids?”

“That shit’s probably a hassle,” said Levi. He eyed his asparagus soup with much distaste.

Eren hummed in agreement. “I’m glad you think that way,” he said after a while. “I don’t have much fondness for kidnappers. People should pick on other people who can fight back, don’t you think?” It sounded almost like a confession: soft, sombre. Absolutely unlike any of the Erens Levi had encountered before.

Levi supposed that the scary thing about serial killers was probably that they made sense in a way. The only problem was that they went about things in a vastly different manner than most people. “I’m not exactly at a place where I can agree with that honestly, you know,” replied Levi. “What with my job,” he added when he saw the confusion on Eren’s face.

Eren looked thoughtful as he stared at Levi. Levi didn’t have the heart to say that Eren looked constipated like that.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” said Levi. “You have all the time in the world.” To do what, exactly, Levi wasn’t sure. Maybe kill people. Maybe think about Levi. Levi frowned; maybe he was thinking too into this shit.

The smile on Eren’s face was too wide and brilliant. It showed his teeth, all straight and white and, if you looked closely, a little bit sharp. It made Levi think some more about stupid shit. “Yes,” said Eren, “yes we do. Now are you going to eat that?”

Levi gave him the asparagus soup.

 

* * *

 

Eren’s friends were law-abiding citizens (unlike him) except, perhaps, when it came to matters concerning Eren himself, though the latter probably applied only to Mikasa. The beautiful, brilliant Mikasa Ackerman, the stuff of legends in med school: never seemed to need sleep, was always professional (except when it came to matters concerning her friends, especially Eren), understood theory right off the bat, applied said theory perfectly when it came to practicals, the list went on.

Speaking of her, she was sitting in the passenger seat of Armin’s too small car. Her left hand was holding a set of binoculars against her eyes. Her right hand was gripping the edge of her seat. Her mouth was set in a frown. Beside her, Armin was looking at her with something that was a cross between wary and worry.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” said Armin. His words fell on deaf ears.

“Short, old, cheapskate,” muttered Mikasa. Not that she had problems with people who were short, old, stingy, or even a mixture of that. But she _did_ have problems with people who wined and dined Eren. “This level of dining experience is below dating standards for Eren. You could’ve tried harder.” She wasn’t even quite sure if Levi, a man whom she remembered only from family reunions that was few and far in between, was even into people. He was certainly _something_ (if you were into that, and Eren was into that, and Mikasa simply didn’t know what Levi’s appeal was — if there was even any), and proof of that was that even Mikasa remembered him, but surely, surely Eren could have picked someone better.

That someone didn’t even need to be Mikasa. Just that they would coddle Eren and give him the best of the best even if it meant selling your liver and such other valuable body parts.

“You know that Eren doesn’t care about that kind of thing.” Besides, from what Armin knew — and he only knew because Mikasa had asked for him to search about the restaurant Eren was having his very first date in — this was a pretty expensive restaurant already. Certainly not something Eren’s family would go to — if they felt up to it, they’d go to the finest restaurants, wherever they were in the world — but it was pretty close to it. “He’s more the sort to care about who he’s with rather than where they are.”

“Eren deserves better.”

Armin sighed. There was no stopping Mikasa when she got into these moods. Still, he regarded the restaurant where Eren was with worried eyes, there was something about this whole thing that was off. Then again, he supposed that there was something off with Eren to start with. “Birds of the same feather, huh,” he said as he tapped his chin slowly. There was something feral to the point of being terrifying in Eren; it didn’t appear much, but it was there all the same. He might have been looking too much into it. Either way, if this was what made Eren happy, and Eren certainly did seem to be happy with the entire arrangement, what with this whole “Can you look up Levi Ackerman?” business a few weeks ago.

Armin had no qualms with that.

Mikasa just needed a lot of time to adjust.

 

* * *

 

“What exactly do you do, Levi?”

Levi looked up from his chicken, too many herbs and not a lot of meat, and stared back at Eren. “Don’t you know that shit already?”

Eren shrugged. “I guess I wanted to hear it from you.”

Levi sighed. “Just tell me what you don’t know and I’ll fill in the blanks.” He doubted Eren, stubborn brat that he was, would let the thought go. Besides, someone needed to keep tabs on just how much he was being stalked.

“Every eight in the morning, you’re out of your house,” said Eren. “You only seem to be able to write when you’re outside. In the afternoon, you do your other chores. Then evenings are for dinner and writing some more, but that’s only until eight in the evening. Onwards, you seem to do something else.” He leaned closer to Levi. “The Ackermans are known for being caught up in all sorts of things. They’re usually employed as spies, assassins, other things that rely on stealth.”

“That’s not entirely true,” said Levi once Eren looked like he’d said his part. “My schedule does change,” depending on what tune Erwin wanted him to dance to, “and it isn’t a family business. More like we all end up getting the same job either way.”

“It suits you.”

What was Levi supposed to say to that? Was there even a socially acceptable retort to that? I think your job suits you too? Hope you don’t go batshit on me because you’re kinda good at what you do? Because in the end, that was what Eren was: good at what he did. Covering his tracks, unabashedly killing people (albeit most of them had been notorious and some of them were like Nick whom the public didn’t know was bad in a sense), and then going through all of that again and again.

Had he been a normal man, Levi should have been afraid, he would have walked right out that door and never looked back. But he had — above from thick eyebrows and gentlemanly manners and tall stature, or from bright, bright eyes and pretty faces and bottomless stomachs — a thing for dangerous people. Apparently. Not that he spent any time thinking about it though. Except for now, of course.

Things around Eren didn’t make much sense.

“Thanks,” said Levi.

Eren, graceless as a baby elephant taking its first steps, snorted and rolled his eyes. “No need to push yourself,” he said. “No pressure here.” He grinned. He reached for Levi’s cheeks from across the table and pulled them up. “You should smile some more.” He squinted. “Or not. Funny as it sounds, you look scarier this way.”

Levi’s brow furrowed and he swatted Eren’s hands away. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he said.

“What got your panties in a bunch then?”

“Not all of us suffer from verbal diarrhea like you.”

“No, especially you. But you seem to have a case of snarkitis. Can’t resist getting a jab at anything.”

“Glad to see we’re comfortable enough for stereotypes,” muttered Levi.

Eren laughed. When he calmed down, he looked at his watch — the numbers displayed on the panel said that it was half-past ten in the evening — and frowned. “Sorry to cut this short…”

“You’ve got a practical tomorrow.”

Eren blinked. “How…?”

“I heard somewhere,” said Levi in a nonchalant manner. “Idiot, today isn’t my only free day, you know.”

“But it’s the nearest from the last we saw each other.”

“Which was five days ago.”

“Five very long days ago.”

“And you call me every day.”

“Does it bother you?”

“It does.”

Eren closed his mouth.

Levi tapped the table with his index finger. “You bother me a lot,” he said, “but it’s not like I can do anything about it. That’s just the way kids are these days.”

“You could’ve just told me.” His eyes trained solely on Levi, his mouth set in a scowl, his shoulders tensed. Eren looked like a petulant child.

“I’ll get used to it. Get used to you.” Levi cleared his throat. “Vice versa.”

There was something about the way Eren’s lips curled up that made Levi so deliriously giddy that he was beginning to think he’d been drugged. Something about the way Eren’s laughter bombarded his ears and never seemed to want to get out of his head.

When they finished eating, they paid their bill and Eren left a few notes to tip the kind staff; a few notes being a generous amount which Levi was sure was a little bit more than what they paid their waiters around here. Levi’s car was fetched and they made their way to Eren’s apartment.

It would have been a quiet ride if it wasn’t filled with pop music, which Eren seemed to like, and Eren’s stories about things like how many ghosts lounged about student hospitals or how that freshman fainted at the sight of a cadaver.  Things Levi wasn’t interested in, but felt it would be nice being curious about them all the same. It was funny the way Eren managed to squeeze in what appeared to be an hour’s worth of stupid college anecdotes in fifteen minutes.

Before they knew it, they were in the parking lot of the apartment complex Eren lived in.

“This was a fun date,” said Eren as he climbed out of Levi’s car.

“We hardly did anything except eat,” said Levi.

“And talk,” added Eren. He grinned. “It was nice knowing more about you.” He closed the door and went to Levi’s side of the car.

“You mean it was nice having me willingly solicit information about myself,” muttered Levi. He opened his window and looked at Eren.

Eren laughed. “Did you want me to stop?”

“You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

“I would if you told me.”

An awkward silence settled between the two of them. Eren scratched the back of his head and gave Levi a lopsided grin. Levi felt like having a heart attack then and there.

“I’ll call you.” Eren pursed his lips. His brow was slightly furrowed.

If that wasn’t hesitation, Levi would shoot the next person he saw. He tsked and grabbed Eren’s necktie; Eren narrowly missed hitting the roof. He gave Eren a quick peck on the lips and said, “I don’t like waiting. Try to remember that for the next time.”

 


End file.
